Twitter Bird
by Ratkinzluver33
Summary: They get #superrobin trending on Twitter. Tim would be proud, if they weren't faking it.


_**Edit: Like a few of my previous fics, this was posted on AO3 first. It's only been up there for, like, a week, but I figured you should know. Or something.**_

**Author's Note: **

**I have no idea what I've just written. I needed banter. And slash. I'm also shitty with the canon, so half my facts are going to be off. Don't judge. Oh, and Tim is basically Bruce Wayne's adopted son in this? Yeah, I like to mix things around a bit.**

**This is my first DC fic, which is probably a warning sign. It's the characterisation, it's hard af.**

* * *

Tim sighs, resting his head in his hands as he watches Kon flirt with the fiftieth girl this week alone. Apparently doing charity work earns you a thousand swooning fangirls. It's not that Tim's jealous or anything (really, no way), but Krypto seems to think he is, as he's whining and snuffling at Tim's feet. The comfort is nice, sure, but it's also strange, because it's not like Tim's _that _affected.

Or anything.

Krypto growls at his feet, and Tim recognises it as his "I am getting righteous and indignant right now!" growl, and not the "I'm going to rip your throat out!" growl. Thank God. Still, Krypto's getting worked up for nothing. It's not as if Tim _cares_ that Kon's as straight as a stick and unafraid to use his... _appeal._

Oh, Christ. He needs to stop.

Krypto growls louder, and Tim wonders if he can just _leave._ Then again, Bruce would probably get all brooding and dark and give him the disappointed glare, so he's probably going to have to stick this out. Even if it is torture.

Kon makes his away over from where he's finished schmoozing (which is _exactly_ what he's doing, seriously. He seems better even than Bruce, the number one playboy in Gotham), and sits down next to Tim at the gala's table. The table alone is overkill, topped with expensive flowers smelling like expensive perfume, and Tim is overwhelmed.

He wishes he were just _whelmed._

"Hey, Robbie. This sure is fancy," Kon offers.

Tim groans and sinks down in his seat. "Was this all necessary? It's a charity event, not a ball."

Kon raises an eyebrow. "Do people even _have_ balls anymore?"

"Probably."

Krypto perks up, and tries to float into Kon's lap, but he pushes him away. "No, Krypto, we're in high class society now. You can't sit on me, doofus."

Krypto whines, flicks his tail in annoyance, and settles back down under the table, where he's been hiding from the prying eyes of event-goers. Tim reaches down and ruffles his fur, which seems to calm him. At least now he won't go on a rampage and eat all the food like last time. He firmly believes that was Kon's fault, anyway, for riling him up and _daring_ him. Idiot.

Lovable idiot.

Tim wants to smash his face into the table. He wouldn't have to deal with this if he knocked himself out.

_Bruce's dark and brooding disappointed glare,_ he reminds himself. _No messing this up_.

"Hey," Kon says, resting a hand on his shoulder. "It's not that bad. It'll be done soon, anyway. People assume we have places to be, people to see, you know?"

Tim rolls his eyes. He knows for sure that they're going back to the mansion to play video games afterwards, not save helpless maidens, or whatever it is the public assumes they do for a living.

Kon picks up on this and laughs, choking a little as he attempts not to be too loud and show himself up in front of the "impressionable civilians," as Bruce had said. Tim wonders if perhaps he has a Martian sense of mind reading, as this has just ventured into the uncanny.

"I know, I know. They couldn't be more wrong, right? Whatever, it's not like anyone needs our help right now, except for maybe Princess Peach."

"I'm not playing Mario with you," Tim snaps. "You know what happened last time."

"I broke the controller_ one time,_ and that was only because Bart snuck up on me. He's too fast!"

Tim shakes his head and goes back to people watching. He's supposed to be on the lookout for any suspicious activity, anyway, since they can't seem to catch a break in this damn city. Don't get him wrong, he loves Gotham as much as the rest of the bats, but sometimes he wishes it were a person so he could throttle it. Violently.

Kon sighs and readjusts himself from where he's sat rather uncomfortably in the chair, which alone is probably worth thousands of dollars. "You know," he says, "I don't know how you do it."

Tim raises an inquisitive eyebrow at him.

"You're Tim Wayne, the ultimate people person, or whatever. But, really, it kinda sucks, all the attention."

Tim snorts. "You're saying you _don't_ like being the centre of attention?"

"Shut up!" Kon laughs. "I mean, it's all so fake. I feel like Holden Caulfield, calling everybody a phony, but it's true."

Tim raises another eyebrow, so he ends up looking somewhat over-dramatic, like in a soap opera. "You _read?_"

"Yeah, I read, you ass." Kon slaps him playfully on the shoulder. "Got nothing else to do."

"Except break controllers?"

It's Kon's turn to snort now. "You ever gonna forgive me for that?"

"No. It was vintage," Tim challenges.

"Ebay sells them for, like, ten bucks, Robbie. Like you couldn't replace it."

"Sentimental value."

"Oh, ha, ha."

"You have no idea! I could've owned that controller for the entire duration of my life." Tim gives him a haughty look, slipping from Red Robin to Tim Wayne in seconds.

Kon merely smirks. "I know for a fact you bought that shit in the bargain bin of some thrift store for a dollar."

"I maintain my story. I owned that controller for over a decade, and it meant everything to me. My heart broke when _it_ broke, Kon." He raises a hand to his chest, feigning injury.

Even Krypto seems to laugh at this, as he makes small whuffling noises under the table, where he's still beautifully hidden. Tim wonders what the event-goers would think if they knew Kon had brought his _dog._

"Uh huh," Kon says, in between hysterics, "sure. Okay."

Tim gives Krypto another stealthy pat on the head.

"Hey, what are we even supposed to be doing here, anyway?" Kon asks, aiming a look in the crowd's direction.

"Looking presentable," Tim replies. "We're supposed to impress the possible donators, so that they, well, _donate._"

"So, we're eye candy. Respectable, heroic eye candy."

"Essentially."

Kon makes a face. "I'm whoring myself out for charity?"

"I'm right here with you, if it helps."

Kon nods. "It's always better with you here, man."

At that, a rather wealthy looking woman approaches them. Tim braces for impact - metaphorically, of course. Luckily, he's not Tim Wayne in costume, so at least he can get away with being somewhat quieter. Honestly, who knew whoring yourself out for Gotham was such hard work?

"Oh, aren't you two just darling? Superboy and Red Robin, dating. Who'd have guessed?"

Tim composes himself, before he snorts and makes a snarky comment. Kon, however, blushes furiously. _Interesting._

"Ahh, no, ma'am, we're not-"

"It doesn't matter, dears. Nobody is judging here, not after all you've done for this city."

Tim nudges him, silently suggesting he drop it. It's not worth the effort, obviously. Plus, positive press reception is useful for their reputation, and teenage romance (he shudders at the very words) always picks up like wildfire.

Kon seems to understand, but he remains as red as Tim's costume. They match, in a way.

"Oh, and who's this?" she asks, noticing Krypto under the table.

So much for stealth, though at least she's nice enough not to question the dog's presence. Then again, who would? Superboy's dog probably transcends even a guide dog's status.

"This is Krypto, ma'am. He's a Kyrptonian's best friend."

Tim rolls his eyes, but luckily nobody can see through his mask. A Kyrptonian's best friend? Really?

The woman eventually walks off, shockingly to the donation area, and Kon offers a fist to fistbump.

"Score, dude! We totally used our heroic charm on her."

"Bruce will be happy," Tim sighs.

"Don't be such a downer. You were the one cheering me up a few minutes ago."

"I hadn't actually been used as Gotham's vigilante hooker at that point."

Kon smiles, warm. "It's for a good cause, right?"

"Yeah. That and our epic romance, apparently."

Kon scratches the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "That's going to get to the paparazzi within seconds, isn't it?" His smile fades. "I'm sorry, if I hadn't have-"

Tim waves a hand. "If you hadn't have what? Acted like my friend? Calm down, Kon. It's not a big deal."

"Well, if you say so. You sure you don't mind?"

"It's good for press, anyhow. I suppose we're supporting another good cause, too. Gay rights are a major issue in Gotham, so it will be nice to offer the community some support."

Kon seems to perk up at this. "We can be like the star-crossed lovers, fighting against injustice while also _actually_ fighting against injustice."

"Eloquent."

"You know you love me, _boyfriend._"

Tim laughs fondly.

_This can work,_ he thinks. _This can really work._

* * *

Bruce is surprisingly not mad, and he seems to actually approve of the "fight against injustice," especially after Clark uses his persuasive moves on him. Tim's not actually sure what Clark's persuasive moves even _are,_ but he's pretty sure it has something to do with him and Bruce and the bedroom. (Which, ewww. No thank you.)

Kon gets really into it. Fighting for civil rights seems to be a huge thing in the Kent family, anyway. They're all so _genuine._ Kon's passion seems to really drive the movement, coupled with Tim's strategic talents. They even get #superrobin trending on Twitter.

All their fights seem to change, however. Their opponents seem almost afraid to face them down together. Tim doesn't know what to think, but Kon absolutely loves it. He laughs for ten minutes straight after a lowly gang member takes off running the opposite direction, screaming, "It's the real Jack and Rose shit, guys! I'm out!"

Tim slowly comes to like it, just a little. The idea is kind of nice, it's just that it's not _actually_ real, which is what it all comes down to in the end.

Kon's tapping away on his Twitter account, which he insisted they make when the news of their "relationship" went viral, laughing every few minutes at the particularly hilarious comments.

"Oh, man, you have no idea how many questions they're asking about our sex life. I don't even know what half of this _is!_"

Tim shoots him a look. "You better say I'm an animal in bed, Kon, or I'll never talk to you again."

Kon chokes on his iced tea, which he always drinks when on an Internet marathon. Caffeine is good for the soul, according to his flawed science.

"They're asking who tops right now," Kon offers.

Tim ponders this for a moment, then settles with, "We switch. We have a sex calendar. I top on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays."

"Seems like someone's put a lot of thought into this."

"Our imagined sex life has to be superhuman, Kon. We have expectations to live up to."

"I can't believe you sometimes, man," Kon snorts, downing more iced tea.

Tim peeks over his shoulder.

* * *

**Superboy** _ therealsupahboi_

superrobinfan143 Robbie gets Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. We have a calendar and everything. #superrobin #notevenjoking

* * *

Real funny.

He sits down next to Kon, reading over his shoulder and watching him blush at the particularly shocking questions.

Strategically, they need to keep up the image until press coverage slows, but afterwards... Well, they can't do this forever. Tim ignores the pang that sends through him - really, he can't think about that right now, not when planning - and goes back to tapping his pen on the desk. He owes it to Kon, after all.

The thing is, they're going to have to make it convincing, and if Bruce plans on sending them out to any more eye candy charity events, they're going to have to _practice_ making it convincing before they embarrass themselves in public.

This is just getting harder and harder, no pun intended. How is he supposed to break this to Kon? Directly, he supposes.

"Hey, Kon," he says.

"Yeah?"

"You know we're going to have to make this convincing, right?"

Kon blinks, turning his head away from the screen. "Well, yeah. That's what we're doing right now!"

"No, I mean, in public."

Kon's eyes widen in understanding. "Oh! Right, yeah, of course. Duh, silly me. No worries, man. I will be the most realistic gay superhero in the history of gay superheroes." He puts a hand to his chest, covering the S-Shield. "Cross my heart."

"We're going to have to kiss, you know," Tim poses, dubious.

"Dude, I will knock the pants off you with my glorious kissing skills. I swear on the House of El, or Kent, or whatever."

"I'm holding you to that."

"But can I trust _you_ to make me swoon with your acting talent?"

_More than you can believe, Kon. More than you can believe._

"Yeah, you can," he replies, and leaves it at that.

* * *

It's the end of a particularly difficult mission when Kon asks, "Hey, Tim, you wanna get a coffee? Maybe some muffins or something? I'm beat."

"Have you ever considered reevaluating your codependent relationship on caffeine?"

"Not really."

"Do I need to check you into caffeine rehab?"

Kon aims puppy eyes at him. "Would you ruin one of the best relationships in my life?"

"I'm heartless. You don't know what I'm capable of. But, yes, I'll get a coffee with you."

"Oh, man, this is going to be awesome!" Kon yells, throwing his hands into the air melodramatically.

"Me or the coffee?"

"Shut up."

* * *

Tim's shoving a muffin down his throat, messier even than Kon, when he starts noticing the telltale flash of a camera. A crowd has gathered around them, and he can hear them murmuring about "boyfriends" and "adorable coffee dates" already.

Kon blushes to the tips of his ears, but Tim's used to the attention. Not that they'd know that, of course. He waves at the audience, and goes back to eating his muffin.

"Stay cool," he offers, at Kon's slightly horrified look.

They're almost about to blow their cover, so Tim makes a heat of the moment decision. He leans in and kisses Kon. Hard.

The crowd goes wild, and Tim narrows his eyes at Kon. Kon, reading the cue, reaches out and grabs Tim's hand. It's going to add a shitload of fuel to the fire, which is exactly what they want.

Twitter is going to be batshit by the time they get home.

* * *

Twitter is, in fact, batshit by the time they get home. Tim would be pleased, but Kon keeps giving him funny looks. It's unsettling. Hadn't they subtly promised they _weren't_ going to be weird about this?

So much for that.

Tim decides to bury himself in tweets. They're at least better than watching Kon stare at him, then blush and turn away.

* * *

**Maya Park** _ maymay1013_

oh my GOD! did you see them kiss? soooo cuteeeee! #superrobin

**Lily Manson** _ lilzlolz_

maymay1013 Dude, ikr, omg! They gave me the courage to come out to my parents. #superrobin

* * *

Tim smiles. At least some good is coming of this.

* * *

Kon's worse within a few days. Tim had thought he would get over it; after all, Kon is probably the most resilient person he knows. He's seen Kon bounce back from _everything,_ but apparently a _kiss_ is all it takes to shut him down. Tim would be bitter, if he weren't so sad.

Kon reminds him of a skittish puppy. Everytime Tim approaches him, he blushes and stutters and generally disolves into an incoherent mess. Look, Tim gets it, kissing your best friend isn't exactly a _normal_ occurrence, but this is an overreaction. He's never seen Kon so _awkward._ He usually never shuts up, but now it takes a lot of coaxing to get him to say more than a few words.

To put it simply, Tim's kind of mad. And confused. Not to mention, Dick keeps giving them both sympathetic looks, which grate painfully at his nerves. Even _Damian_ seems concerned, and that boy is about as mindful as a rock.

It's when Tim's sitting on the couch, watching shitty TV and eating empty calories, that Jay sits down next to him. Tim immediately realises Dick's sent him to do his dirty work. His caring, loving older brother dirty work.

"Jay, if one word about 'feelings' or 'herbal tea' comes out of your mouth, I will sew it shut. No joke."

Jay sighs. "I fucking told Boy Wonder this wouldn't work," he mutters, more to himself. "Sorry, kid, but you're gonna have to hear me out."

Tim fixes him with a withering glare. "I don't need to. I know exactly what you're going to say."

Jay shakes his head. "No, I swear, it's actually kinda helpful."

Tim crosses his arms and looks displeased. He hopes this may get Jay to reconsider, as Dick's word vomit "loving older brother" advice usually ends with a naive and hopeful "it'll all be okay, dude!" Which isn't going to work, just to clarify.

"Dick said that Kon's acting like a blushing virgin because he's gay for you, buddy."

Tim coughs awkwardly. "He's what?"

"Awww, ain't that sweet. Little bro's got himself a boyfriend." Jay winks, then gets up and leaves the room swiftly. "Have fun!"

Tim stares at the empty doorway, blinks, and then grabs his phone.

* * *

"You called?" Kon asks, floating above the TV.

"Dick and Jay told me something interesting today," Tim begins, and raises an eyebrow for effect.

Kon pales slightly and manages a fake smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. They told me why you've been so weird recently."

"Weird? I haven't been _weird._" He waves his hand dismissively, laughing. It sounds forced.

Tim glares. "You have. And they say it's because you _like_ me."

"Of course I like you. You're my best friend."

"You know what I mean, Kon. Don't play dumb."

Kon visibly deflates, and his face contorts into this pained expression Tim never wants to see again. "I'm sorry, man. I know I swore I'd be cool about this."

"Is it true?"

Kon stares at him, like a deer caught in the headlights, and something defeated fogs over his eyes. He nods. "Yeah."

Tim doesn't know what to do, so he follows the terrible, cheesy, Disney-esque advice Dick had given him once when he asked about crushes, and kisses Kon.

For real this time.

And when he slips his tongue into Kon's mouth, he pretends he _doesn't_ hear Dick's cheering from down the hall.

That man has eyes everywhere.

* * *

_FIN._


End file.
